Lightning strikes
by cor-forte
Summary: A new take on the beginnings of Storm's character. Ridiculed, mocked and treated as an outsider. There is only so much one person can take. When that person has the power to summon lightning and storms whenever they want, it is best to treat them right unless they snap.


It was a dull grey day which matched Storm's dull grey mood. It was another painful day of monotonous activities. The few conversations had seemed the same as the ones yesterday and even the grey slop served in the kitchen seemed very much the same as the grey slop served yesterday and the day before that. There was one thing different and that was the weather. The overcastness of the last few days had finally given up all hope and had sunken into steady dismal drizzle which soaked anybody and everybody to the skin. That was one thing to be happy about. Everyone looked much the same today. Hair plastered to their faces. A fed up glaze to their face. No-one was paying attention to much, apart from various glimpses at the windows to see if the weather had stopped yet. Of course it hadn't. And wouldn't. Storm knew this but no-one else did. No-one else knew that it was Storm who was creating the steady downfall. Nor would they. They did not need confirmation that Storm was a freak. They would love to find out she was a mutant though, it would just confirm all their suspicions and give them yet more names to jeer at her as she walked through the corridors. She hated this place. The people. The walls, which seemed to press in on all sides, suffocating and confining. Even the tables which always seemed to be uneven and wobble infuriatingly as she tried write down the notes. Everything seemed wrong and she was a puzzle piece which did not belong to this jigsaw. She knew it. Everyone knew it. So why was she still here? She asked herself that every day and every day she got the same answer.

The bell rang and Storm shoved everything into her bag, uncaring of bending pages in her workbook or of the pens falling out of her pencil case to lie forgotten at the bottom of her bag. What did they matter anyway. What did anything matter in such a monotonous world. She swiped a strand of white hair from her eyes and with her head held high, marched the room and eventually out to the main corridor. She could feel people's glares at her, the whispering and jeering, the snide remarks and the smirks at the "freak". She held her head high. If they only knew what she could do then they would not be so willing to dispense their snide remarks. They would respect her. They should respect her and what she could do. They were puny and mere ants compared to her. She could manipulate the weather, bid lightning to strike to a point she chose, summon storm clouds on the calmest of days and make the air tingle with electricity. She was aware of the thumping of her heart increasing and the usual tingling which danced through her body as it started to summon energy. She had had enough. She was not some mere toy to be mocked and ridiculed by these people. They did not know her and they were never going to give her a chance. So why should she give them any different? She stopped walking and stood, legs slightly apart as she started to summon more and more energy. She could feel the power and she was sure by the silence which had fallen, the others could too. She was caught up in the power. Her power.

Suddenly just as the corridor grew dark and foreboding someone grabbed her arm and quickly marched her away into an unused classroom. The grip was too powerful to escape from and the electricity which ran through Storms body seemed not to affect the stranger. She grew scared. Being verbally abused was one thing. No-one had ever grabbed her though. Much less bundled her into a dark unused classroom. The power had started to retreat. She was scared now, not angry. She wanted to run and the darkness was pressing in on her. She could hear the door being locked and then footsteps as the person walked towards her. She started to scream for help, for anyone. But it was as though no-one heard. No-one came running. No-one was going to help. She had to protect herself. She rose her arms and summoned all the power she could. Her feet left the floor and her hair rose around her head like a white halo. The figure drew back. Storm laughed as the wondows of the classroom exploded inwards sending shards of glass shooting through the room. The wind whipped around the room sending tables and chairs flying through the air. She was in charge and she was no victim.

"STOP!"

Storm gasped and the electricity froze in her veins causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.

That voice...


End file.
